Reign of the Dead
by Choco Scorpion Bat
Summary: A group of six survivors band together to try and survive the onslaught of the dead. VERY GRAPHIC AND VERY DISTURBING! OC
1. Chapter 1

Reign of the Dead

By

Dylan Bailey

Chapter One

What does it mean to be dead? Some call it the eternal sleep, others just call it dead. But what about the _undead_? Are they alive, or dead? Are they either? That is the question many have asked themselves. It is unknown if they possess the abilities they had in life. But it is known that they crave human flesh with horrifying persistence, and they will stop at nothing to get to it. People call them zombies. And it was at this precise moment that I typed this sentence when these zombies killed and ate Anne Brewer Lyndon at her home. In fact, almost six million people have been killed by these zombies in approximately 400 million towns and cities globally. This sudden…infestation…has become known as the Reign of the Dead, aka, the Zombie Apocalypse.

12:43 Hours

Hinesville, Connecticut

Deirdre sat on the sofa, lazily flipping through the channels on his TV. He was dead bored, and couldn't find a thing to watch. Deirdre was a black male, 17 years old, and a high school dropout. He had three sisters, each younger than him. They were Yvonne, Keisha, and Helen. His mother's name was Georgina. His father Grant. Hinesville was a small town. Insignificant, you might say, in the grand scheme of things. Deirdre let out a bored sigh and sat there. There was nothing to do! A cartoon called _Mooville _came on. Deirdre sighed. The theme ended and was suddenly interrupted by a news cast. The anchor was a bald man in a pinstripe suit. He was disheveled and it was obvious he was on a coffee binge. The man's clothing was wrinkled and his tie loose around his neck. His eyes were bloodshot.

"Th-there have been reports of mass murders happening throughout the Hinesville area. Mass hysteria is the reign of the moment. Law has no control whatsoever anywhere. The murders are obviously the work of assassins, though we have no idea why. The bodies discovered have been partially eaten, the flesh having violently been ripped off of the body. No other information is available at this time about the killings."

Deirdre stared at his television in shock. Murders? He didn't know of any murders. The man on the screen looked away for a moment before facing him again.

"This just in: there numerous reports of the deceased _rising up again _and killing everyone in their path. You heard me right, folks. _The dead are rising_. This catastrophe is happening everywhere. All over the globe, dead are getting up and killing people. They are devouring the living. The dead are—NO! NO! NO!"

As Deirdre watched, a blood covered person with matted hair jumped on the anchorman and attacked him. The reporter screamed in agony as his flesh was rent off him. Blood sprayed everywhere and splashed onto the camera. The creature (what else could it be called?) gave a guttural growl and slashed the screaming man's stomach as he tried to escape. The man's intestines spilled out of him and he screamed even louder. The zombie grabbed his small intestine and stretched the meat taut, then chewed it. The anchorman gave a high pitched scream of agony-terror and fell back dead. The zombie growled and chewed, growled and chewed.

The camera swiveled unsteadily to view all-out carnage. Zombies broke in and attacked anything that moved or breathed. A woman had her gut emptied as three of them attacked. A man was thrown and had his arm torn off, his blood spattering the wall and ceiling as he flailed. Yet another woman had her shirt and jeans ripped off as _five _zombies ate her flesh. Her screaming was quickly silenced. Her entrails flew about along with her left leg. The man controlling the camera screamed as his intestines and blood flew onto the ground with the camera. Then it went static.

Deirdre sat there, shocked into complete silence. He did not know what to say. What were those things? What was happening? He finally got up and went to the window. He hesitated to open the curtain. He did. He immediately wished he hadn't. Houses were on fire, cars were wrecked, and people ran about, screaming like cavemen. An army of the undead was attacking the living. As he watched, a child was torn apart by her mother. Her blood painted the street crimson. The mother dined on her entrails. Deirdre finally got sick and vomited on the floor. When he got back up, a zombie was at his window. The creature let out an animalistic sound at clawed at his window. The blood smeared the glass. Deirdre gasped and backed away. The creature used its head and beat on the glass. It shattered and he jumped inside.


	2. Chapter 2

Reign of the Dead

By

Dylan Bailey

Chapter Two

Deirdre backed up slowly, terrified. The zombie stalked closer and closer, growling. Sweat poured down the boy's head. He bumped into a table and saw salvation: a vase. He grabbed it and threw the pot at the zombie. It smashed into a million pieces on its head. The thing roared and stumbled.

"Later, creep!" yelled Deirdre. He ran up the stairs. Just then, his mother appeared in front of him. Deirdre stopped, panting in relief. "Mom! You're okay!" he said. Georgina looked at him, her face pale. She said nothing. She just stared.

"Mom?" Deirdre asked. Then Deirdre saw the huge bloody hole in his mother's arm. It had been chewed away, right down to the bone and muscle. Sinews of muscle and tendons waved at him. The blood gushed. She let out an animalistic scream and lunged at him. Deirdre screamed and fell back down the stairwell. He landed with a thump, banging his arm. He clutched it, gasping. His mother made her way down the stair to him. He got up, only to be met by the creature he threw the vase at.

Deirdre started to panic. He was trapped. He dropped to his knees, sure he was going to die. Suddenly, the front door flew inside, smashed into a million splinters. A piece of wood lodged itself into the male zombie's frontal lobe, gushing blood out of its forehead. When the dust cleared, a GMC TopKick Pickup truck was where the door should've been. The driver's door opened, and a hulking Caucasian male stepped out, a Thompson in his hand. He was wearing only a pair camouflaged pants and steel-toed boots. A hunting knife was attached to his belt. A cigar was burning in his mouth.

Deirdre could only stare.

Without a word, the mystery man walked over to him and grabbed his shirt. He roughly pulled Deirdre to his feet and stalked over to Georgina. Georgina promptly growled and attempted to eat his face. The man pistol whipped her in return. Then japed the Thompson into her mouth and pulled the trigger. Her brains became part of the decorations. Deirdre watched all of this happen. The man came over to him and gave him a one-over.

"What's your name, son?" he asked. He waited for an answer.

"D-Deirdre," he said, albeit shakily.

"My name's Herbert," Herbert said. "Were you bitten?"

"What? No, no. What happened?" Deirdre said.

"The dead have come back, Deirdre. That's what happened."

Deirdre was shocked. He had heard and seen it on the news, but couldn't believe it. But it was true. The dead _have _come back to life. He looked at Herbert.

"Thanks, Herbert."

"Call me Herb," he said.

Deirdre nodded. He looked at the truck. The truck was huge, like Herb. Outside, Deirdre could see thousands of the undead stumbling around, and killing humans. He felt nauseous again, but kept it back.

"Nice truck," Deirdre said.

"Thanks," Herbert replied.

All of a sudden, the room was swarming with the undead as they poured inside from the hole in the wall and the window. They fought each other, scrambling to get to the fresh meat. Herbert fought them off, firing his Thompson. Guts and brains and blood flew everywhere.

"Get in! NOW!" he hollered. Deirdre nodded and crawled to the GMC. Then he felt a tug on his jeans. He looked behind him to find a zombie holding on. Its torso had been shredded up by the Thompson. It hissed and tried to bite. Deirdre screamed and kicked violently. His foot connected with the creature's face, and it let go. Deirdre sat there, terrified. Then he remembered. He crawled the rest of the way to the vehicle and leaped inside. He stared out the windshield. Herbert was blowing up heads left and right. Gore sprayed the room red. A piece of grey matter landed on the glass in front of Deirdre. He crinkled his nose in disgust. This would've seemed awesome in a movie, but this was real life. He closed his eyes to block out the carnage.

"Move outta my seat, boy!" herb said. Deirdre jumped and scooted over. Herb slammed the door shut and revved the engine. The tires squealed and the GMC shot forward, mowing down zombies left and right. Gore, brain, and flesh smacked the glass and flew across the room. An arm landed in his daddy's arm chair. The truck tore the wall down as it entered the outside. They were free.


End file.
